Damned and Divine
by Trisskel
Summary: Marceline owns a popular business and is doing well for herself. Bonnibel is looking for work for unknown reasons, but by the looks of her she's been through a rough time as of late. She comes to Marceline's place to look for a job. Little does she know excatly what she is asking for. [It's rated M for strippers! hint hint]
1. Chapter 1

[A/N: This is an AU idea I saw on the Bubbline tag on Tumblr. You guys are terrible influences and I love you for it. It inspired me so I'll just put this here. Yes, I know Marceline doesn't smoke, but I believe her smoking at times is appropriate to this certain AU. She doesn't smoke when she is sober, just when she drinks to forget. Thanks!]

[PS: Let me know what you guys think! If it goes over alright, I'll continue it.]

Marceline took a drag from the clove cigarette resting between her fingers. She exhaled lazily watching the silver smoke dance into the air. It danced like her girls; wild and untamed. She smiled and leaned back, the glass in her hand clinking softly with ice. It was a dark rum night for the Queen. The heavy spiced scents hung about her as her dark heavily lidded eyes looked around. It was a couple of hours before they opened for the night and she was nicely on her way to a fine drunken stupor as she was prone to do on occasion. Most of the girls knew how to handle their boss when she got like this, but a couple of the newer girls fidgeted nervously. Marceline stood up on uneasy feet and began to laugh.

"Alright, ladies! We still have time before our special guest is due to make his appearance…" She swayed lightly. "Now, I know better than most, he may not be the nicest guy, but he's our stepping stone to the absolute top. Sure, I know we're already the best. But after we're done with him, everyone will know and there will be no damn doubts!" She growled to the ladies around her.

Most of the girls encouraged her with hoots and whistles, but the newer girls who seemed more than a little nervous just clapped uneasily. After a couple of minutes, she sat back down heavily in her booth to her smoke and drink. She nestled herself back against the overstuffed cushions and watched as her girls got the room ready for the next shift.

The room was heavily decorated with red and black velvet. It was reminiscent of a Victorian manor, but the music was far from matching. The dark Victorian atmosphere was purely for the comfort and theme Marceline tried to uphold. She was the only matching piece, for she was the owner and operator of The Burlesque Palace of the Damned and she was their Queen.

Bonnibel had nowhere to go. She had tried to find a job almost everywhere. She was 23 and had no work experience; she had been laughed out of every place. She still carried her refined air, but she had become very discouraged. One of the men at a store had grinned at her, eyeing her up and down and told her to try "Marcy's Place" down the road. She was desperate so she made her way towards the large building that reminded her of a bad horror movie set. The large stone manor had large grotesque gargoyles on the edge of the roof that leered down at her mercilessly. Their jaws hanging open in what seemed to Bonnibel as mocking laughter. She took a deep breath and hefted her bag once more. She made her way slowly down the cobblestone path to the front doors. As she stared at the doors and contemplated knocking, she brushed a lock of pink hair out of her face. She finally managed to swing the large brass door knocker. A minute later, a small meek looking girl answered. Bonnibel tried giving her a confident smile.

"Oh, ah, hello." She gave a stiff wave. "I was told I could come here to look for work… Is there any way I could speak with the manager or owner…or anyone really…?" She chewed her lower lip nervously.

The small girls face lit up. "Work? Oh, yes! The Boss is in, as always. I'm _sure_ she'd be happy to meet you." The girls tone was slick with something Bonnibel didn't quite recognize. She still had so much to learn about to learn about the "real" world. The girl turned and motioned for Bonnibel to follow her. "You can call me Berry, everyone does. I'm sort of a hostess here." The small, raspberry haired girl said as she pushed open the doors to the large open room that served as the main hall for the business. "No need to be nervous Miss. The Boss is nice, especially to those she likes, though she is a bit….out of sorts tonight. She gets that way sometimes, but she isn't bad." She added as she led her across the room to the owner's private booth. Bonnibel followed in silence.

"Excuse me madam." Berry said with a sly smile playing across her lips. "We have ourselves a caller. She says she needs work…" The small girl said to the darkness. From the dark came the red hot glow of the cherry of a cigarette. "I'll leave you to it madam." Berry said as she backed away. As she turned she gave Bonnibel a reassured smile and retreated to her duties.

Marceline slipped out of the shadows to greet her potential employee. She put the clove out in her ashtray and stood up uneasily to get her first look at the newbie. Her dark eyes looked Bonnibel over before she smiled and took a step closer. "So, looking for a job? This is definitely the place for a pretty young woman, like you." She said as she smirked picking up her glass. "Such an interesting beauty…" She murmured, staring into the dark liquid, as she lifted her drink to her pale lips and took a long drink. She set the drink down with a hollow _thunk_ on the thick wooden tabletop and turned her eyes back to the displaced looking girl standing before her. "My name is Marceline Abadeer and I own this 'little' establishment. And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?" She purred in her drunken husk.

Bonnibel fidgeted. "Ah, my name is Bonnibel -… just Bonnibel." She replied setting her bag down by her feet. For a fleeting moment Marceline saw a look of fear when she omitted her last name. It wasn't really Marceline's place to pry into why women sought her employ. It was rarely a pretty story and she imagined it was much the same for this fallen princess looking type. She gave her a look over and smiled to try and reassure her. The girl was dressed in high-end clothing, albeit a bit dirty from the looks of it. She looked as if she hadn't had a proper place to bathe or sleep for some time. But even under her beauty and attempt at hiding her disheveled look, she couldn't hide the fact she was homeless. But of course Marceline had an eye for that sort of thing in her line of business.

Marceline smiled again. "Well, Just Bonnibel, what brings you to my home?" She gave a toothy grin. Bonnibel stiffened and held her head high or at least tried. "I need money…and a place to live. Why? That is my own reason." The pink haired girl replied curtly. Marceline chuckled. "Oooh, mysterious, I like it. I won't ask your reasons, just so long as you're okay with the work. I take good care of my girls. I'll feed you, clothe you, put a roof over your head, and pay you. In return…" Her look turned part mischief and part something Bonnibel didn't recognize. Marceline ran a hand through her dark hair to hide the fact she eyed the girl up and down again. "…you dance."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey there! Thanks for reading and thanks to those who have reviewed! I kept going because of the inspirtaion I was given. You guys are awesome! ** **So, I would love some help coming up with ideas for the story. I have some ideas, but the more I have the better! So please, review and stuff! Thanks again lovelies! **

* * *

Bonnibel looked at Marceline with slightly widened eyes, her façade of confidence growing increasingly thin. "D-Dance, you say?" She stiffened, a light blush dusting her cheeks. Marceline smirked at her obvious reaction.

"Yes, dance. You _do know_ what sort of place this is, right?" She chuckled. "This is" She leaned back and a thoughtful look spread across her pretty features. "…Let's call it a burlesque house. Sure, it's a little more than that, but it sounds nicer." Marceline closed her eyes and mused. "I do, however, take great care with my girls comfort. You do what most you're comfortable with, but that also varies the paycheck. Believe me, by the time we're done with your 'training' you'll be up there with the best of them, making some serious bank." She added pulling the bottle of dark rum over to the edge of the tabletop with another glass. She refilled her glass and looked back at Bonnibel. "Well, Bonnie? Still want the job?" Marceline asked running her finger along the rim of her glass.

Bonnibel's head spun. What had she got herself into this time? Everything had gone from bad to worse and continued downhill from there in just a matter of a couple weeks. There was nowhere left for her to turn.

She wouldn't go back.

She couldn't go back.

That wasn't an option from the beginning. That was made explicitly clear when she had been put out. This dark haired woman with mischievous eyes and the wry smile was the only way she could make it. Bonnibel was too stubborn to give up. She was raised to expect everything and she had nothing. She took a deep breath to steady her mind and body. The thought of dancing for—having to take off—it was not the dream job of any girl that was brought up as she had been.

She had taken some dance lessons when she was younger so it wasn't the dancing that was eating away at her. _I'll have to—my clothes…oh my glob, what has happened to me… No, I won't let this stop me. If she wants a dancer, by glob she'll have one. _She thought to herself.

She had her answer.

She had her resolve.

The dark haired owner leaned against the edge of the table awaiting the pink haired girls answer. When Bonnibel finally drew her attention back to what was happening around her, she found Marceline staring at her, as if peering into her soul. It made Bonnibel a little uncomfortable, but at the same time, it brought a new heat to her cheeks. "Well, Bonnie?" Marceline smirked. Bonnibel turned her full attention to the other woman. "**Don't**...call me Bonnie." Bonnibel snapped unintentionally, the words came out before she could stop them. A grin spread across Marceline's face and she began to laugh. "Yes, of course, _princess._" She couldn't resist. "I like my girls feisty." She added laughing. "So, what do you say?" She swayed a bit, the bite of the alcohol wrapping around her senses. Bonnibel stepped towards her and held out her hand. "I'll do it. I'll take the job." Bonnibel said as Marceline took her hand to shake. Marceline noted how soft the girl's slightly pink-tinged skin was. It was a stark contrast between her own almost paper pale, calloused hands.

Marceline broke the handshake and took the bottle in hand and poured a celebratory drink for Bonnibel as well. "Well, welcome aboard princess. And before you get feisty again, as much as I _love_ a good sharp tongue, all my girls are 'princesses'. We use stage names, of course. And I think I have just the name for you." She said handing her new employee the freshly poured glass of dark rum. "A drink..." The Queen of the Damned smirked. "...To my Princess Bubblegum." Her smirk widened to a grin, showing her slightly pointed teeth. She tossed a quick wink at Bonnibel and _clinked _glasses with her new employee. Bonnibel took a sip of the strong drink and almost choked and she coughed a little to keep from feeling like a fool.

_'I MAKE THEM GOOD GIRLS GO BAAAAD, GOOD GIRLS GO B-A-A-A-D' _began playing over the loud speakers. Marceline looked around as if the music was the last thing she expected. Bonnibel noted the surprise and began to notice the little things that gave it away that her new boss was damn near hammered drunk. Her attention on the sudden music quickly faded and she looked back to Bonnibel. "So Bonnie, I'll show you around tonight and you can see how things go. I'm not throwing you the wolves just yet. I'll make sure you know a thing or two before you even step foot on stage." The ebony haired owner said to the smaller woman. Bonnibel furrowed her well-kept eyebrows at the use of the nickname. Marceline motioned for her to follow and she walked [she swayed] towards the center stage.

The center stage was set up somewhat like a cat-walk at a fashion show, but it had a tall pole at the end of the walk and the end was wider than the rest and rounded. Marceline was giggling to herself as she sat on the edge of the stage and spun around and managed to get on her feet again. This was the first time Bonnibel noticed much about the older woman. She was wearing snug leather pants and a dark red corset top with no straps. She was in good shape as was made obvious when her muscles flexed as she stood up. She was looking directly at the pole as she stood up. Bonnibel wondered in Globs name she was doing, but she didn't have to wonder for long. A moment later, Marceline took off towards the pole at a much faster rate than was needed. Her drunken mind told her it was a great idea.

Bonnibel watched with morbid amusement as her new boss went to grab the pole and missed, her drunken mind misjudging the distance. She toppled over off the stage with as much grace as could be expected from a drunken woman and crashed down onto a table. Bonnibel gasped and ran over to where Marceline lay to see if she was okay. When she reached where Marceline has landed all she heard was the sound of the hysterical laughter from the overturned and broken table. "That…was…AWESOME. I gotta do it again!" Marceline jumped up, seemingly unhurt by her tumble and face-to-face with Mr. Table.

Berry another of the employees came into the room in a rush and over to her boss. "Marcy, no! That is the third table this week! The girls and I have told you to stop trying to grab the pole when you're drunk!" Said the new girl. She had bright orange hair, with red highlights.

Marceline gave a pout and looked at Berry and the other girl. "Aw, you guys always ruin my fun, Sera…" Marceline hiccupped. 'Sera' fumed and turned her attention to Bonnibel. "You must be the new girl Berry told me about. I'm Serafina*, but everyone who works here calls me Sera." The redhead smiled at Bonnibel. The pink haired girl returned the smile and introduced herself before looking back to their boss. All three of the employees looked at Marceline and Sera shook her head.

"Bonnibel, will you help me get Marcy to her room?" She asked, her eyes showing that she was more than used to this from her boss and friend.

Bonnibel nodded. "Yes, of course." She replied as Sera. The two managed to half-drag Marceline to her large room at the top of an intricate staircase. Sera pushed open the door and guided them over to the large canopied bed, with the same dark red and black velvet as the rest of the manor-house. They hefted the very drunk Marceline onto the bed and Sera turned back to Bonnibel.

"Can you keep an eye on her while we finish getting ready for the night? She'll just cause more trouble when she's like this." Sera gave a sigh and then laughed. "She's a handful, but it's only because…" She stopped and thought for a moment. "Ah, well, you'll know when she tells you about it." Sera added and turned to leave. "Don't worry; she'll come to soon enough. She'll want to finish showing you around tonight. You'll get an idea of what you're in for." And then Sera was gone, the door shut behind her. Bonnibel was left alone with a passed out Marceline and even more time to wallow in her self-pity for her situation.

(*Serafina: I wanted to use a name for FP that I hadn't seen before. Serafina is an Italian name meaning the Burning One. I think it fits.)


End file.
